Our Darkest Hour
by Lauretta92
Summary: The aftermath of episode 4. How will Molly cope when James and Smurf are fighting for their lives?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. I am completely new to writing fanfiction for "Our Girl". I am loving the stories that have been posted so much, but I couldn't resist writing one myself. I am a proud Dutchie, so that means my English is not as good as the rest of you. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out. **

**Anyway, last night's episode was amazing, but also very gripping. This idea popped into my head when I was on my way to school this morning. I really love the relationship Qaseem and Molly share, a very sweet father/daughter relationship. When both James and Smurf are hurt I imagine that Qaseem would be there for her. **

**Ok, I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy:)**

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><p>The warm evening breeze provided by the Afghan heat spread across Camp Bastion. Molly Dawes exhaled deeply, taking in the heat, hoping that it would fill the empty place left behind after the events of today. It was all such a mess. Both Smurf and James were injured because they took their eyes of the task at hand. They took their eyes of the job because they were too focussed on her. Her.<p>

A single tear fell down her cheek. Just one of many she had already shed because of this ordeal. She had already felt guilty about the events that led to getting the platoon involved into this hunt of Badrai. The platoon that she'd gotten so fond of. For her it was like inheriting a bunch of brothers to add to her, already big, family. And now, now this newly created family could be ripped apart if one or both of them were to die.

_No, Molly. It's not good to think like that. _

More tears felt down, cutting across her cheeks, hoping that it would alleviate some of the pain she carried with her. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see James and Smurf lying on the ground.

"I'm sorry", he said. Twice.

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't hear someone approaching her. After they returned to Camp Bastion for the duration of the tour she had to find another spot for some peace and quiet. Time she usually spend thinking about everything that was happening to her.

She turned around when she heard someone clear their throat. In the small light provided by the full moon, who was safely positioned in the Afghan sky, she recognized Qaseem. A person she really became fond of during this tour. She did her best to wipe the still visible tears away, hoping that he wouldn't notice. He didn't say anything about her state of her emotions. Instead, he simply took a seat right next to her. Worry slightly present on his face. "Are you alright?", he asked after a few moments of silence.

She turned her head to look at the man she came close to. He had become like a father figure to her. That man was so different from her father back in London. He had lost so much and was almost consumed by the guilt that came with it. Guilt that after today was far too familiar for her.

She wanted to tell Qaseem that everything was alright. She didn't want to appear as the medic who was too weak, too soft to handle the real deal. But to Qaseem it was pointless to pretend. He always saw right through her and always knew what to say to make her feel better.

"No", she said. "No, Qaseem, I'm not alright."

"It wasn't your fault." They were words she wanted to believe so much, but she was so deep in despair that she couldn't think clearly anymore. "Whatever you think, it wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. The Taliban are to blame here."

"But, Qaseem…"

He held up his hand, signalling an interruption. "No, I will not let you be consumed by this guilt."

"Like you are?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to say to her. "It'll withhold you from enjoying your life as you should. Don't let it control your life."

She turned her head again, taking in the view of the stars while she weighed Qaseems words. Here, next to her, sat a man who lived with the weight of guilt on his shoulders for years. He knew exactly how she was feeling right now.

"But you still have hope. All is not lost.."

These words hit harder than she would have thought. The tears started to make themselves known to the outside world, rolling down her cheeks like a large waterfall. Like they would never end, that the water kept coming from an unknown source.

"I feel so guilty about everything", she said, while she sniffled her. "If it wasn't for me they would never have been arguing."

Qaseem didn't answer. He simply placed his right hand on top of her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "They are strong. They will fight hard. I know that."

"What if that's not going to be enough?"

"We have to believe. For all our sakes." He retreaded his hand, who had rested on her shoulder not moments ago. "Especially yours", he added to his last words.

She looked at him and asked: "Me?"

He nodded. "I've observed you the last couple of days, Molly. I know love when I see it." There was a moment of silence between them. "My wife used to have the same look in her eyes. The same look you have when you look at James."

She inhaled deeply, taking the air and Qaseems words in together. "Go! Be with him. He would want you there." He grabbed a handkerchief out of his right pocket and handed it to her.

She whipped away the traces left behind by the tears. As Qaseem stood up, she managed to thank him: "Thank you, Qaseem. Really."

His answer only consisted of a smal, sad smile and a nod towards her. He turned around and started to walk back to the centre of Camp Bastion. She swallowed hard before making her way to the hospital. She was going to put Qaseems words into action. She was going to be there for James, but also her best mate Smurf. Neither of them deserved to die. She would try to be there for them.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Should I continue this?<strong>

**I hope you liked it and it would be very lovely if you took the time to review it. Always nice to know what people think about it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, really just.. wow. Really didn't expect this kind of response to the first chapter. Thank you for the four guest reviewers, xtine and anon for your review. It's much appreciated. **

**Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

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><p>The peaceful moonlit place that she just came from was so different from the whirlwind of activity from the doctors and nurses occupying the base hospital for Camp Bastion. The effort and energy put in by the medical staff to help the soldiers and locals was absorbed by her. She took a deep breath before she made her way to the ward for critical injuries.<p>

She looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of this ward. Different soldiers were lying in the beds, most of them fighting for their lives. She hated to admit it to herself, hoping deep down this was all a nightmare, that she could wake up at any moment. Here were two people fighting for their lives; one person who she loved, despite his secrets and another who was her best mate, who she couldn't see herself living without.

When she spotted James she walked straight over. Jackie, the medic she befriended during her tour, was there redressing his wounds. "How is he doing?", she asked, her voice low. Her question almost came out as a simple whisper.

"He is stable at the moment, but the first 48 hours are critical." Jackie wiped a gauze with antiseptic across the wound in his stomach. "After that his chances of getting through this will increase."

Molly nodded and took a seat on the cream coloured chair next to the bed. She rested her head in her hands and gave a deep sigh. She run her hand through her hair. "What exactly happened today, Molly?"

She looked up from the hospital floor to Jackie and shrugged her shoulders. "Did it have something to do with you getting clipped?", Jackie prodded.

"Well", Molly started. "You're right. Trouble always finds me."

Jackie smiled softly, before putting a bandage on James' wound. She put her wound dressing equipment down and sat on the edge of the bed. "He'll be fine, Mols."

"He has to be", she said, the sentence almost sounding like a plea for his life.

"If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me." Jackie put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it to encourage her to stay strong. They were not letting her be consumed by this, weren't letting her only see the worst case scenario. She was definitely blessed to have met these great people during her first tour. She had heard during her training that you would never forget the people you serve with during the first tour. Never in a million years did she expected that to be true, that it applied to her.

"Jackie?" Her friend had started to walk away, unnoticed by her since she was so lost in her thoughts, but she turned around when Molly called her name. "Do you have a pillow for me?"

"What?", Jackie asked, a questioning look spread across her face, influencing the shape of her brown eyebrows.

"I want to stay here."

"But-"

"Please, Jackie. I can't leave. I can't leave _him_." The emotions that she had put away, hoping that it would reach the place under stairs so it could never to be opened again, were resurfacing again. She was hoping she could put it away. Out of sight, out of mind, so to speak.

"Sure", Jackie said. "I see what I can find."

"Thanks."

When Jackie walked away again, she turned her attention to the man she loved. Softly she stroke his cheeks, tracing she edge of his face with her finger. She felt so guilty, so incredibly guilty over all of this. She knew deep down inside of her that Qaseem was right. She shouldn't be consumed by the guilt, but when she saw him lying on the ground, the red colour of his blood settling on the bridge, she couldn't stop but feel guilty.

After Jackie had brought her a pillow she settled into the chair next to the bed, finally letting her tired body come to rest.

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><p><em>The warm Afghan sun reached her skin, so warm that it felt like it burned through her uniform. She felt his warm hands on her cheeks, followed by his soft lips on hers. "I love you, Molly Dawes", he said, cupping her face in his rough hands.<em>

"_I-" All of a sudden James let go of her face, falling down on the ground. _

"_James", she yelled while she quickly knelt beside him. She assessed his current situation; he had one wound on his right arm and leg, but also several in his stomach. It almost appeared that his vest didn't provide him with the required protection, like it left him in the same manner as the life slowly started to withdraw itself from his body. _

"_Stay with me, alright?", she said, crying. "I'm going to get you out of here." _

"_I want you to be the last thing I see", she heard him say, only this time she heard it like it was a whisper, like it was so far away. Not with the strenght she heard it the first time when they were in that compound together. The moment when he covered her lips with his. _

"_I love you" After he uttered the last words everything froze. The life inside of him was drained out, having lost the battle to stay alive, to survive. Slowly the blood was leaking out of his body, making him paler and paler, like it also took his lifelines with him. She didn't move, but neither did he. Not anymore. _

"_No", she said, her voice filled with sadness and sorrow. __"No, James. No, don't die. You can't die." _

"_James!", she yelled at the top of her lungs. _

She rose up from the chair, putting her feet firmly on the hospital floor. She let out a sight of relieve. It was a nightmare, just a bloody nightmare. She looked over to the bed, making sure that James was still there. That he wasn't dead, like she just had just seen in her nightmare.

She sat herself down on the chair again and closed her eyes for a moment. "Mols", she heard someone say. She opened her eyes and saw corporal Kinders standing next to the bed. "How is he doing?"

She sniffled. "If he makes it through the next 48 hours, he has a bigger chance of survival."

The corporal nodded to her. When he noticed the pillow on her lap a questioning look spread across his face. "Did you sleep here last night?"

"Yes", she said, confirming his question. "I want to be here when he wakes up." She looked away from the corporal to the bed that held the person she loved. "If he ever does."

"It's not your fault." It was that sentence again. The same exact words Qaseem said to her last night, the words that should have a deep meaning to her, but they didn't.

"That's what everyone's been sayin'."

"Because that's the truth. Believe it." The corporal smiled at her, hoping to transfer some optimism' towards her. "Well, the boys are having breakfast in a few minutes. Join us."

"No, I rather stay here, Corp."

"Alright, then don't forget to eat something. You have to eat something."

"I will. I promise."

He looked at her one last time, before he turned around and walked towards the exit of the hospital.

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><p><strong>A review would be lovely, as always haha :) <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

He blinked with his eyes, trying to adjust to the light that had finally reached his eyes in days. It felt like years for him. Years that he had seen the beautiful smile of the medic he got so fond of the last couple of weeks.

He blinked one more time, trying to make his view of the room he was in more clear. He saw a person standing next to him, attending to his wounds. He identified her as the medic Molly befriended during her days here at Camp Bastion. "Good morning, Captain", Jackie said, her words followed by a smile. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Sore, but fine."

Jackie put the gauze in the bowl she had placed on the nightstand. "I'll see if I can find the doctor for you", she said. "Maybe he can give you something for the pain."

"Thanks." James looked around, taking in the energy and bustle of the improvised hospital. He was looking for something. No, more like someone. The last thing he wanted to see if the end ever came. The medic attached to Two Section. His medic. The medic who looked after his blisters.

To his surprise he found Molly sleeping on the chair next to his bed, the pillow her head rested on against the bed. "She's been here ever since you were brought in. Refused to leave you." James smiled. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, like she didn't notice the misery currently present on the ward. "Should I wake her?", Jackie asked.

"No", he said while shaking his head. "No, just let her sleep. She must really need it."

Jackie nodded. "I'll go and fetch the doctor." She looked at him one more time before she walked away, his file in one hand and the bowl, containing the equipment she just used to redress his wounds, in the other.

When Jackie was out of sight, he once again looked at the woman sleeping beside him. He couldn't help but smile. The longer her looked at her, the wider his smile got. Sometimes, before all this happened, he sometimes spent the evenings in his tent imagining how it would feel like to wake up next to her. How it felt like when she would be the last thing he saw at night and the first thing he would see when he would wake up. He never once expected it to feel like these, that it would make him the happiest man on the planet, despite his current injuries.

Slowly, he moved his hand towards her right hand. It took him some effort, but he finally covered her hand with his. She must have felt the warmth that was being radiated from his hand on hers. She started to blink a couple of times before she finally saw what woke her up. "Hey", he said, followed by a small smile.

When she realised it was actually him that woke her up, tears started to form in the corner of her eyes. "How-", she tried to say more, finish her question, but the emotions that were caused by this situation took control over her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fines, Dawes", he said before he corrected himself. "Molly." He said her name in a delicate way, hoping that she would notice the real meanings behind his words.

She squeezed his hand before showing him something he had missed so much: her beautiful smile. "It's so good to hear your voice." As a response to her words, he squeezed her hand as well, signalling to her that he understood. Oh, did he understand.

When he was fighting for his life, it had felt like he was surrounded by darkness. He was cold, so cold. He couldn't feel the hot Afghan sun burning on his skin. He couldn't feel the warmth that came with it. But the worst part was that he couldn't feel Molly's soft skin, how her lips felt on his. Lady luck had been smiling on him that day, like she was when Smurf got shot on one of their first patrols.

"How is Smurf doing?" Despite what he had said on that bridge, it didn't mean that he wanted something to happen to the soldier. He meant what he said in the debriefing: "One life lost is one too many." And that included private Dylan Smith.

Molly shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't visited him since he was brought in here."

"Why not?"

"Because", Molly sighted while she put her hands through her brown hair. "Because he put all our lives in danger by bringing personal issues into the battlefield. He made you lose focus, which almost got you killed."

He looked at her after she had spoken those last words. The emotions were still visible in her eyes, even though he was alive. She was still shaken up about what had happened during that mission. He intertwined his fingers into hers, like he had done in the medic tent when he asked her to buy him some Rosabaya in London. "But I'm still here", he said, his voice low in volume, since these words were only meant to be heard by her. "I'm not going anywhere. Talk to him. Try to forgive him", he urged her, accentuating on the last sentence.

"I'll try. Maybe I can talk to him later this afternoon."

"Go and talk to him. It's important."

"I know."

He looked at her once again. His eyes started a journey they never should have. Her eyes, containing the beautiful colours of green and grey all mashed together, forming one whole. He noticed a mole on her left cheek, standing out like her personality had done in the first few weeks being deployed with him. She was so different, so incredibly different from the woman who was back in the UK. The woman he once loved.

He smiled at her. "What?", she asked.

"Nothing."

"That smiles tells me it isn't nothing."

He signalled for her to come a bit closer, before he whispered in her ear: "If we weren't in a hospital at the moment, I would be kissing you right about now."

"If you weren't recovering right now, those kisses would be followed by some other things", she said while wiggling her brown eyebrows playfully. He smiled at her cheeky comment.

"You promise?"

Her answer simply consisted of one of her smiles. "Captain", a heavy male voice interrupted them, while the person cleared its throat. "How are you feeling today? Are you in any pain?"

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? As always, a review would make my day :) Also big thanks to the two guest reviewers, xtine, Kinders and Lesley. It's really appreciated and am happy you're enjoying this! <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

Molly took one deep breath before she took her last final steps towards something. Something that she had been putting off for days. There in the middle of mess tent that functioned as a dining room was Smurf sitting eating his meal. It took him some effort to get the food safely into his mouth, since he had his left arm in a sling.

_It's now or never_, she thought to herself. She couldn't put it off. James was right, she shouldn't put it off anymore. She took the last steps towards her final destination before she sat herself down across the table from Smurf. He looked up, his grey eyes meeting hers. "Molls", he said, surprise clearly audible in his voice. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I was putting it off."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Because", she exhaled deeply. "Because I was blaming you and I couldn't let myself get angry at you. You're recovering. You don't need pissed off Molly Dawes as a bonus."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Captain James." When she mentioned the name of Two Section's leader, Smurf's emotions seemed to drain away, like they retreated themselves to a hidden place deep under the surface. He was just giving her the cold stare. "Like I said in that compound, Smurf. You deserve someone who loves you unconditionally", she continued. "I can never give you that."

"Because you love James, not me", he said, the bitterness of his words audible in the tone of his voice. "The end of the shit stick seems to appear again."

"You're not second best, Smurf."

"Yeah, right", he said sarcastically, breaking eye contact by letting his gaze wonder over their surroundings.

"You're my _best_ mate. You are not second best. Never."

His eyes, once on the mess tent, were back on her. This one movement, this one thing, just his eyes on her, made her feel so sad for him. He was always second best, always in his live. Him finding out about her and James was just the final straw that broke the camel's back. He had felt this way his entire life, especially when Geraint was still alive. The anger she once felt for Smurf was fading away.

Seeing him sitting across from her, she made a decision. She was setting him free. He was giving a second chance and she was not about to take that away from him. There was something on her neck, resting on her sternum close to her heart. It didn't feel right to wear it anymore. It was an object that represented the past, not his future. And it deserved to be symbolizing his future.

She untied that bit of rope and freed the ring from it. She put it back on the table, somewhere in the middle. He was slightly taken aback by her gesture, before he said: "Keep it."

"No, I can't. Give it to someone who deserves it, because I sure as hell don't."

"Why are you saying that, Moll?"

She bit on her bottom lip. "Because I almost got you both killed. You were arguing about me."

"But I was the one that brought personal things to the battlefield", he casted back. "I'm not scot free, either."

She swallowed. Maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn't the only one to blame here. Everyone of her brothers within Two Section said it wasn't her fault, but none of them knew the exact content of their argument on that bridge.

"We both fucked up than", Smurf stated after a few moments of silence.

"So it would seem."

"You want to start over?"

She smiled. Here, just a few centimetres away from her, sat a person who could give her a clean slate. She could leave that damned bridge in Afghan behind, start fresh and he would be the friend she needed by her side. "I want nothing more than to start over."

He opened his arms demonstratively. "Hug?"

"You stupid Newport numpty", she said, while she laughed.

She walked over and put her arms around his neck. She pulled him close to her. He was her mate, her best mate. "Ow", he heard him say. "Still injured here."

She let go of him. "Sorry", she said cheekily.

He cleared his throat before he extended his hand: "Hello, beautiful. My name is Dylan Smith, but most people call me Smurf."

"My name is Molly Dawes", she said, while shaking his hand. "People really call you Smurf?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I know. They say I look like a smurf. Think it's the ears."

"Oh I can tell ya. It's definitely the ears, mate." They looked at each other before bursting into loud laughter.

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><p>Molly frowned her brown eyebrows. "You call that a proper poker face?", she heard the man lying across from her ask.<p>

"What's wrong with my poker face?" She crossed her legs in a tailor fashion, making sure she wasn't taking all the space at the bottom of the bed. After James had woken up, they moved him to another ward where he could gain strength so he could go home.

"Nothing", he said, his words followed by shrugging of his shoulders.

"Well, Sir", she said, mimicking the words _Sir_. "You be talkin' different when I win."

"If you're so confident, then show me your cards." He gave her a challenging look. "Private Dawes", he added, saying it in the same manner she just said the word _Sir_.

She put the cards on the cream coloured sheets, who were covering James' legs and part of his abdomen. "Woops, looks like you're losing a very important piece of clothing."

He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to look like he was really surprised by this development but the form of his lips gave it all away. "Who said we're playing strip poker?"

"Do you see anything else we can play for?", she asked, gesturing with her hands to their surroundings. "I don't see any money on the table."

"It's really not fair", he said, before toned his voice down and whispered: "I'm hardly wearing anything."

She smiled. "I know", she whispered back, before wiggling with her eyebrows.

Their moment was abruptly interrupted when Mansfield Mike entered the hospital ward. When he noticed her on the end of the bed, he said, surprise present in his voice: "Dawesy, still here?" When he noticed the poker cards on the sheets, he continued: "Ah, didn't know you played poker."

"Oh yeah. My dad taught me when I was a kid. Stripped my granddad bare once. Nan weren't too happy 'bout that."

"You beat the Boss Man? Nice one", he said, while high fiving her. He returned his attention to the recovering Captain. "How are you doing, Boss?"

"I'll live."

"When are you going home?"

"I have to stay here for another week, gain some strength before I'm fit enough for air travel. Then I can go home." When he said the word _home_ he looked at her. Small gestures like this made her all feel warm and gooey inside. Weeks ago she had experienced nightmares, who consisted of James' dying, but after he woke up she felt like she was dreaming. That is was too good to be true. But here she was playing poker with him. He was smiling, laughing at their banter and her cheeky comments. He once mentioned going home with her, but after what happened on the bridge she thought that never would become reality.

"So, you play poker, Mansfield?"

"Me, Boss? Absolutely. At Derby they call me the king of poker!"

"Just like they say you look like Prince Harry?", Molly said, hearing James chuckle in the background.

"Shut up, Dawesy", he said while he pulled up a chair, getting in position for a new round of Texas Hold 'em.

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><p><strong>First of all, thank you Lily, Izzy and the two guest reviewers for reviewing last chapter. Means a lot that you took the time to review! And of course a big thanks to my beta "Klipdoctor"!<strong>

**And secondly, I really had fun writing this chapter. I thought it would be nice to have a funny, happy chapter instead of all the serious one's I wrote. And I find Molly's cheeky side very fun to write, so I hope I did that justice. And am not quite sure I portrait Molly and Smurf right in the first scene. Just let me know what you think. A review comes a long way, as always :) **


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